


The Good Dog

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Cum Eating, Dom/sub, M/M, Master/Pet, Pet Play, Puppy Play, Semi-Public Sex, bdsm relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 04:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: Shiro always knew what this relationship was. Strictly Pet and Master. He'd entered into it knowing that this was all it could ever be. Lance didn't believe in love. Which was a shame, because Shiro did and he was pretty sure he was in love with Lance.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 183





	The Good Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Holy Shit it has been SOME TIME. But here's a little something I've been working on for a while. Enjoy!

Big hands gripped the ring of the steering wheel just a little too tightly. The curl of anticipation that was singing through his veins wouldn't allow for his fingers to loosen. He tapped a thumb in time with the sound of the tires below thumping over the uneven sections of the concrete built road.  
  
_ Tha-dunk, tha-dunk, tha-dunk. _  
  
Steady. Soothing, in a far off way, but not enough. Nothing was enough. He couldn't calm his heart down from the erratic tango it was performing in his chest cavity. The wild thing refused to decrease it's rhythm.  
  
The chime of his phone coming through the Bluetooth of the vehicle nearly startled him right out of his skin.  
  
He cursed beneath his breath, seeing his assistants name pop up on the small screen in the dashboard. He groaned. He felt just the slightest bit guilty he'd left early for the evening and dumped most of the workload on her. But she was eager to please and seemed unphased by staying late.

He clicked the answer button on the wheel.  
  
"Mr. Shirogane, I'm so sorry, I just had a couple of questions on some things I wanted to squeeze in really quickly...is this a good time?" She rattled off before Shiro could even get out a hello.  
  
"It's ok Romelle. Just email me the questions, that would be easier," Shiro instructed.  
  
Really he just didn't think his brain could rightfully form answers to her questions in the moment. His head had wandered away and was long gone.  
  
"Oh! Oh yes sir, I will," The young woman said quickly.  
  
Shiro sighed into the small cab of the sleek vehicle. He could feel sweat pooling at the back of his suit collar. He'd done this time and time again and yet...the butterflies flooding his stomach never lessened. They always came back. Old friends he couldn't get rid of.

It had been a year since he'd started making this trekk. A journey across the city, always the same, in the dark of night. Slinking across the asphalt with shame in the back of his head that was always drowned out by unbridled, _ want _. 

A year felt like such a grand accomplishment. 

But really...was it? What had he gained from all of this? A sense of freedom maybe?

Or he'd just stumbled into a different kind of captivity. 

It had all started as an escape. 

But was it really that anymore? 

The trip always felt so long. Too long. It was an uncomfortable amount of time that allowed for him to run over every possible outcome of the evening, what he would say, what he would do, trying to keep himself composed, trying to stay within his boundaries. He knew the rules. He had to recite them in his head over and over and over again, to remind himself. Like an old movie reel shimmering behind his eyes. 

A Pet will not speak unless spoken to.

A Pet is a toy. Not a person.

A Pet is a _ thing. _  
  
It had been a full three weeks since he'd last made the journey. He'd been busy working on a massive case that had sucked his time away and consumed it. Three weeks was too long.

His skin was _crawling._  
  
He'd been starved of...._his_...voice for what felt like an eternity. His body aching for just a mere touch of _his_ fingertips, his ears begging for those venom laced words to caress down the back of his neck.  
  
Shiro buried his bottom lip between his teeth, stinging just a bit.  
  
He soothed his free hand against his firm thigh, black material stretched over hard earned, well kept muscle.  
  
He was already falling miserably into a pathetic state of arousal, the evidence of his erection pressed flush and girthy against his leg.  
  
"Fuck me," He snarled.  
  
He'd not even made it to his destination and he was already unable to control himself.

Shiro's heart was a thunderstorm rolling across the entirety of his body as he shifted the vehicle smoothly, slowing it to a stop before the massive iron gates looming in front of him.  
  
They sneered down at him, laughing with their high voices.  
  
_ Back again you fool? You never learn do you? _  
  
They were right. He didn't. Maybe he didn't _ want _ to learn. Maybe he just wanted to play pretend a little longer. Pretend this could be something more than what it was.  
  
_ Stupid, stupid boy. _  
  
He didn't care.  
  
Shiro waited, seconds ticking by before the gates came open, givning him access to the wide horseshoe drive.  
  
He progressed forward, trying to compose himself the best that he could. It wasn't working well. He threw the beast of a car into park, eyes tracing up the massive home now positioned directly to his right. The grandeur of the mansion never wore away. The big pillared porch always stole his breath for a few moments.

He swiped at his hair nervously a few times and adjusted his tie before exiting the Aventador. The familiar eyes that trained on him saw right down to his bones. Those eyes were ones that had seen it all and knew too much. That was of course why the owner of the grand home kept the older, greying man around. He was a tight lipped thing that had seen company come and go, there were men before Shiro of course...he wasn't the first. Shiro tried to cling to the hope that he might indeed be the last. That maybe he was good enough to become more than just...company.  
  
"Evening Mr. Shirogane. Right this way please," the older man that simply went by the name "Red" instructed.  
  
Shiro dropped his keys into Red's open palm and the little set was immediately passed off to a younger man Shiro had not seen before. That wasn't unusual, valets came and went on the regular around this place.  
  
"Be careful with her I just had her detailed,” Shiro growled over his shoulder at the spry young male.  
  
"Y-yes sir. Absolutely sir."  
  
Shiro gave an approving nod and smoothed his lapels.

Shiro's feet carried him through the wide mouth of the tremendous doors. Red was a shadow behind him, Shiro nearly forgetting to shuck off his coat before the older man cleared his throat expectantly. Shiro quickly shed the thick material off broad shoulders, leaving him in just his white button down and purple tie.  
  
His eyes scanned the marvelous room, pulse throbbing in his eardrums, drowning out nearly everything else.  
  
Shiro's entire body froze to the floor as if it were cement when _ he _ came into the room.  
  
He floated from the kitchen adorned in a long robe, feet bare as they slapped the hardwood entryway, a long stemmed glass of red wine teetering dangerously in his ever graceful fingers.  
  
Shiro all but melted on the spot.  
  
He was so stunning, the way he moved so lithe and gentle across the space, fingernails painted red to match the drink in his hand. The color of blood, which was fitting for a predator such as himself. He'd drain Shiro dry of every drop and leave him for dead and Shiro was more than fine with that.

"Mr. Serrano you have a guest," Red said dryly.  
  
The lengthy man's eyes darted up, blue as a cloud kissed sky, narrowing immediately as they settled on the new company of the room.  
  
"Takashi! Sweetheart, it has been ages!" Lance whined dramatically as he sashayed over to the bigger man.  
  
Shiro grinned. He'd been spoken to, and so he was allowed to answer.  
  
"It has been some time," Shiro breathed as Lance busied himself in fiddling with Shiro's tie.  
  
"Mm. I do like this shade of lavender on you," Lance hummed thoughtfully.  
  
Shiro had just always thought it was purple. Leave it to Lance to pick out exactly what hue it was.  
  
"Aren't you forgetting something? Or has it been so long that you've slipped your mind?" Lance huffed in annoyance.  
  
Right. Fuck, how could he be so daft.  
  
Shiro quickly took Lance's hand and placed several warm kisses to the back of it, taking absolute care to wander his lips across Lance's knuckles.  
  
"Apologies master," Shiro nearly stuttered.  
  
The word was fire on his tongue.

Lance sneered, with all his teeth, and Shiro was pretty sure the other man just might eat him right there and then. Shiro shivered just slightly.  
  
Lance giggled, low and playful like he always was and it had Shiro's chest clenching.  
  
"Good boy. Now, you have caught me in quite the state of undress. We can't greet the rest of our guests like that now can we?" Lance scoffed, beckoning Shiro to follow him.  
  
Shiro obeyed immediately.  
  
He was pretty sure he'd have followed Lance off a cliff if he'd so asked.  
  
Guests? So Lance was having company over. That was normal as well. The elaborate young man was known for this infamous get togethers. Sometimes they were large and lavish, growing into grand things that could hardly be contained, other times they were smaller and more intimate with a circle of Lance’s...closer friends. Shiro wasn't sure which it happened to be at the moment but the idea of there being others around made his heart sink just a tad. He'd hoped for Lance's full attention...but he also knew his Master enjoyed parading him around...which he was alright with too.  
  
Whatever made Lance happy.

Shiro followed on Lance's heels loyally, watching the sway of his slender, tragically beautiful hips as he made his way down the lengthy hallway.  
  
The impact of Shiro’s soles on hardwood echoed the length of the space, his steps so much more heavy than Lance's featherlight feet.  
  
And then they were at Lance's bedroom. Shiro knew it like the back of his hand. The four poster bed lounged in the middle of the room, a great king amongst the other furniture, taking most the focus for itself. It's pillars were thick and sturdy. Shiro knew.  
  
He'd been cuffed and tied to those very bedposts more times than he could recall anymore.  
  
The rest of the room was sprinkled with luxurious furniture from far off places, all obscure and matching Lance's personality exquisitely.  
  
As soon as Shiro had crossed the threshold, he breathed out shakily. There it was, a massive plush cushion positioned right next to the bed, a mere object that held a dangerously special place in Shiro’s heart. He knew the routine, undress, fold his clothes and put them in the top drawer and then kneel on that cushion and wait for further instruction. Shiro’s thumbs went to work apart the knot of his tie and Lance scoffed.

The noise caught Shiro off guard and he stopped abruptly. 

“Don’t undress yet Pet,” Lance said as he stood in the mouth of his walk in closet, beckoning to the much bigger man. 

Shiro’s eyes darted to the cushion he was so accustomed to and then to his Master. He knew to obey, but he’d never been very good at quickly adapting to abrupt change.

"Where do you want me, Master?" Shiro asked softly, standing in the room feeling more and more like a stranger.  
  
Lance smiled widely.  
  
"Oh goodness Pet, in here with me. I want to watch you while you take _ everything _ off," Lance said with a wave of his hand.  
  
This was new.  
  
Lance usually left him to shed his clothes alone. But Lance wanted to watch? Lance wanted him nearby?  
  
Shiro had to stifle the boyish grin threatening to break his lips.

Lance practically danced into the massive closet, a part of the room Shiro had never been allowed in. Lance always brought what he needed to him from this space...but Shiro had never been invited inside.  
  
Lance gestured toward a large white seat, fluffed with too much stuffing.  
  
"Here sweetie, I just had this ordered from France for you. Only the best for my Pet," Lance cooed as he turned to face Shiro.  
  
Lance drew his finger over the line of Shiro's strong jaw.  
  
"How I've missed the sight of you. Now, be good and don't keep me waiting. I want to see all of you. Nice and slow. Then sit pretty for me." Lance purred in that honey sweet tone of his.  
  
"Yes Master." Shiro breathed raggedly, his voice already lowered several octaves with heavy need.  
  
Lance soaked up the tone, knowing just how aroused Shiro was on his voice alone. That did things to the slender brunet. Good things. He enjoyed knowing he had Shiro wrapped around his finger so tight and neat.

Lance deposited himself down into a large red seat opposite from Shiro, allowing his robe to fall open carelessly, giving Shiro a full view of everything underneath.  
Lance was wearing nothing but a sheer, baby blue pair of panties, so thin and frail Shiro couldn't help but to want to rip them right off Lance's slim hips. He could tear the material so easily...  
  
The younger man took a long, slow drink of his wine.  
  
"Oh Pet, you have those wandering eyes today," Lance scolded with a click of his tongue  
  
Shiro dropped his gaze.  
  
"Apologies, Master," Shiro grimaced.  
  
He knew the rules. Don't ogle. Don't meet eyes. He was a toy, submissive at all times, not worthy of looking upon Lance for more than a moment.  
  
Lance sighed big and hard.  
  
"No harm done. I know it's hard to resist sometimes. You are out of practice aren't you? Goodness maybe it's been too long. Do I need to comb through our rules again sweetheart?" Lance said lowly.  
  
"No Master, of course not," Shiro reassured.  
  
Lance bounced his leg.  
  
"Good. Now let me see you big boy," Lance said snapping his fingers.

Shiro's digits shook as he carefully undid the perfect knot of his tie. He folded it very neatly and looked to Lance for further instructions.  
  
"That shelf right there is yours now." Lance said sweetly, gesturing toward the first shelf to the right of the massive room.  
  
Shiro swallowed. This was all very new. But Lance was like that. Just when Shiro was set in his routine, Lance would change something. Just to watch Shiro squirm he was sure of it.  
  
Shiro placed the silken tie on the shelf, big fingers unclasping the front of his shirt, button by button, flaring under the scrutinizing gaze of his Master.  
  
He yawned the pressed shirt open, revealing a perfectly defined front that looked to have been sculpted from stone. Lance hummed in appreciation.  
  
Shiro had shied away the first time.

Embarrassed of the scars cutting awful lines across his pale flesh. A crash when he was a young and stupid man had left him mangled, scarred and lacking his right arm. But Lance had seemed fascinated with every mark, with his clunky prosthetic, with everything.  
  
These days showing himself and all his scars to his Master just felt second nature.

Lance leaned back just slightly, enjoying watching his prized Pet undress so willingly. He was a big, beautiful thing. He had to be one of Lance's favorites he'd ever kept. And Lance had collected quite a numerous amount of them. Brawny boys so ready to give up their sense of humanity for him. Oh it made his heart pitter-patter. Shiro was large and obedient and stunning and Lance had clung to him for some time, wanting him back again and again. Which was unusual. Usually he kept them only a matter of months.  
  
Shiro he'd kept a year.  
  
He rolled the thought through his teeth.  
  
He had no plans of moving on from this one, for a while at least. His sweet, beautiful Takashi with the scar across his nose and a tuft of white in his hair that was just a badge signifying the stresses he'd seen in his days alive.  
  
Lance liked his Takashi.

The jingle of Shiro's belt cut through the silence, Lance's mouth tipping upward as the man hooked his thumbs beneath his hem and dragged his slacks downward.  
  
With his clothing abandoned, folded pristinely and set on his shelf he stood before his Master with nothing to hide behind.  
  
Lance groaned in the back of his throat, tilting his drink back, tongue darting out to collect what was left behind on his lips.  
  
Shiro breathed in shallowly, abdomen stuttering slightly, nipples rigid beads against the chill of the room. There was no concealing just how stirred he was. His girth stood full and erect, angry with his lack of attention to it.  
  
"Mmm Takashi, pumpkin, already so hard? Do we need to take care of this before our guests arrive?" Lance teased, eyes taking a slow hike down Shiro's body, then back up to his steel orbs.  
  
Shiro grimaced.  
  
It had been a while. He couldn't control himself, nor could he seem to douse his shameful hardness.  
  
"If I am allowed Master," Shiro managed to breathe.  
  
Lance tapped his bottom lip.  
  
"Or I could just leave you like this. Let them all know just what a needy boy you are. So fucking pathetic," Lance snapped the words off, looking thrilled and to be enjoying this far too much.

Lance's gaze stalked over Shiro's form.  
  
"My sweet, pretty little slut. I think I want to let you wait just a little longer. Would you like your gear, Pet?" Lance said thoughtfully.  
  
He was a snake.  
  
Venomous, all fangs and slitted eyes.  
  
He was _ gorgeous _ .  
  
Shiro had never wanted the heavy feeling of his leather hood more. He was desperate for the straps of his harness to lay over his chest, tight and homey. No he didn't just want them, he _ needed _ them.  
  
"Yes Master. Please Master," Shiro replied.  
  
He sounded strained.  
  
He was begging and Lance adored it.

Lance was gone then, whisked away like a leaf on the breeze, the tails of his robe fluttering lazily behind him.  
  
Shiro couldn't see Lance anymore as he disappeared into yet another section of the massive room lined with row after row of clothing, an entire wall decorated with shoes all perfectly spaced apart on their rungs.  
  
Shiro was left to wait, to anticipate, to hang on Lance's sheer beauty. The reason why he kept coming back again and again...  
  
When Lance's smug expression filled Shiro's vision again Shiro could feel his knees weaken.  
  
Lance curled his finger at Shiro, signaling him to come. Shiro did, fat cock bobbing with every step he took. Lance seemed to get grand amusement from it all.  
  
"Head down, Pet," Lance snapped.  
  
Shiro crouched, allowing Lance, who was much shorter than him, to reach up and very gently slide the masterfully crafted leather down over Shiro's head.  
  
The smell sparked something through Shiro's cranium. It was like coming home after a long period away. This was so right and so wrong and his heart was beating so fast  
  
Lance buckled each small, golden snap of Shiro's hood, eyes soaking in just how good Shiro looked adorned in the sleek, black and tan pup hood. The pointed ears were horns atop his head, gorgeous and obscene and watching the stunning male go from man to beast was Lance's favorite part of all of this.  
  
Shiro was one of the most well known lawyers this side of Altea. He'd crawled to the top and earned his title and wealth. He was powerful. Beyond what most would ever taste in their lives. And here he was giving all of that over to Lance so readily. He gave up his name, his dignity, his control. It all belonged to Lance now.

Lance's hands roamed an intricate dance over Shiro's form, his harness coming next, tight across his pectorals, lined with enough O-rings for Lance to tug on him wherever or whenever he so chose.  
  
The massive, spiked, jet black collar settled heavy around his throat, his tags jingling cheerily as they clinked together.  
  
He didn't get a name.  
  
Only Pet.  
  
Just Pet.  
  
His hands were stolen from him, constricted by the leather mitts. Pets did not need their hands. All the better to ensure he didn't touch himself when he wasn't permitted. His knee pads were strapped and adjusted...and Lance was left to step back and admire his work.  
  
Lance grinned up as his Pet, loving the way Shiro blinked at him slowly from behind the mask. Lance dragged the point of his tongue over his plump pillows.  
  
A devious hand dipped low, ghosting just barely over the length of Shiro's cock. Shiro's legs nearly buckled. He whimpered, low, unable to swallow it down quick enough.  
  
Lance's eyebrow quirked at the sound.  
  
"Needy little bitch tonight my sweet Pet, aren't you?" Lance hissed, hand coiling tight around Shiro's weighty need.  
  
Shiro grunted.  
  
"I’m sorry Master," Shiro stuttered.  
  
Lance's shit eating grin only widened.  
  
"Don't apologize. Let me hear you say it. Tell me what you are honey," Lance whispered.  
  
Shiro's Adams apple bobbed.  
  
"I'm a needy bitch, Master," Shiro managed to collect the words.  
  
His cock throbbed in Lance's fingers. God he loved to be demeaned. A few more nasty names like that and he'd be coming in bone shattering waves.  
  
"Yeah you are. Down on all fours, now, Pet," Lance barked.  
  
Shiro went down on his hands and knees before Lance, breath heavy and stale in the muzzle of his mask.  
  
Lance's footsteps echoed around him, circling him like a shark that had smelled blood in the water.

There was the sound of a drawer being opened and rummaged through. Shiro let go of a shaky breath. He knew what Lance was fetching.  
  
God did he know  
  
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a cold chill slunk up the length of his spine.  
  
Lance's slim, soft palm spread out across Shiro's left ass cheek, kneading the strong flesh beneath.  
  
"So good for me," Lance mused, almost to himself.  
  
The sensation of the lubricant should have been cold, but it wasn't. Lance, always prepared, provided something warmed and silky that had Shiro's head spinning on its axis. Lance's first two fingers explored Shiro's depths, stroking in nice and slow, coaxing the puckered flesh to relax around him.  
  
Shiro's eyes rolled back into his skull, elbows shivering, hips searching backward for more of Lance's touch.  
  
Lance hummed, loving the way Shiro was already so close to breaking and they'd just barely started.  
  
Lance curled his fingers, just barely brushing the spot Shiro needed most and the big man made a winded, deep sound. Lance giggled behind him, purposefully avoiding giving Shiro that satisfaction once more.  
  
Shiro tilted forward, resting his cheek on the floor, ass high in the air, whimpering pathetically.  
  
Three fingers.  
  
Four fingers.  
  
And then Lance retracted them completely. Shiro whined, unable to hold it back, hole pulsing around nothing, desperate to be filled.  
  
The narrow end of the plug parted his ring, sliding in, slick with lube, Shiro's body hungrily swallowing the provided toy.  
  
"Such a nasty slut," Lance spat.  
  
Shiro's skin prickled with goosebumps, cock drooling a thick like of precum down onto the floor.

"Wouldn't you agree Pet?" Lance asked, twisting the plug slightly, easing it in nice and slow.  
  
Shiro nodded furiously.  
  
"I am! I am such a fucking slut, Master!!!" Shiro cried as Lance pressed the plug in farther, Shiro nearly hilting it.  
  
With a slick sound Shiro engulfed it, the fat silicone toy settled heavy within him, the rubber end curled up gently in the shape of a puppy tail, wagging almost cheerily as Shiro shifted.  
  
He couldn't take it. He was so full. The plug was so good, he tried to fight but he'd not so much as touched himself in over a week in anticipation of tonight.  
  
Shiro shouted loudly as he came across the floor in heavy, plentiful ropes. His finish splattered against the tile, hips rocking into each rolling wave of searing pleasure. His cheeks flushed behind the hood, chest sputtering, breathing erratic and labored.  
  
"I'm sorry Master...I'm sorry Master...." Shiro panted, voice gravelly and rough after orgasm.  
  
He hadn't meant to, he just couldn't hold back. He had hair trigger reaction after that amount of time and he was now really thinking he should have jerked off before he'd gotten here.  
  
Hindsight.  
  
Lance tutted softly, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.  
  
"Look at this fucking mess you made, Pet," Lance scolded sharply, but Shiro could hear the smile in his voice.

Lance entwined his fingers into the parts of Shiro's hair he could get to even with the mask and yanked his head back, leaning down until his mouth was pressed to Shiro's ear.  
  
Shiro could do nothing but pant into the tepid air of his mask.  
  
"I'm sorry Master..." Shiro whispered brokenly.  
  
Lance smiled, slow and demonic.  
  
"Are you really though?" Lance snarled.  
  
Shiro knew that was a question that needed no answer.  
  
"Get down and clean it up you pig," Lance growled into the shell of Shiro's ear.  
  
Shiro huffed out raggedly.  
  
"Y-yes master," Shiro nodded, leather ears wagging with the motion of his head.  
  
He didn't have his hands. He knew what Lance meant. He wasn't about to question.  
  
Shiro lifted himself on shaking elbows as Lance came around to his front, looking like a little kid on Christmas morning that had gotten exactly what he'd asked for. Lance kneeled, hanging lanky limbs over his knees. His eyes were dark as a stormy sky.  
  
"Go on then," Lance prodded.  
  
Shiro leaned down, pressing his hood flush to the exquisite tile. His mouth came open slow, tongue darting from behind slightly chapped lips that he really should have taken better care of. In one clumsy drag, he collected the first shimmering line of cum up off the flooring.  
  
The taste was immediately heavy in his mouth. It filled his senses and flooded his taste buds. Salty. Heady. Thick.  
  
Lance's eyes were cold, hard, steel on him. Watching to ensure his job was up to standard.

Shiro went back, tongue against cold floor, lapping up everything he'd just spilled, eyes watering, heat in his belly growing back to a bonfire so quickly he was almost ashamed.  
  
Almost.  
  
Lance tilted Shiro's head back.  
  
"Open," Lance snapped.  
  
Shiro did, extending his tongue and hanging his mouth wide.  
  
Lance scrutinized him, ensuring he'd swallowed and snorted in amusement.  
  
"Good boy," Lance sneered.  
  
With that the young man yanked Shiro forward, pressing his mouth to the bigger man's, tongue exploring the hollows of Shiro's maw, humming in appreciation.  
  
Lance licked his lips as he pulled back.  
  
"You taste so good Pet," He grinned darkly.

Lance's praise resonated through every corner of Shiro's being like a great bell. It filled him, it fed him, it only made him want more. He looked at Lance through a dazed, post orgasm haze, the ache in his sack finally released, feeling like a spring having come uncoiled.  
  
He oozed with utter satisfaction. He loved Lance's hair. It was lusciously wispy, curling in little tendrils at his nape. He loved Lance's brilliant azure eyes, two vast oceans that Shiro could spend a lifetime drowning in. He loved the way Lance was touching him now, fingers cutting through short cropped locks, allowing little whispered praises to cascade over the big man. Everything was soft. And light. And fuzzy. Like a charcoal drawing someone had smeared across the paper.  
  
Shiro could only muster a lopsided smile that was tired and utterly sedated.  
  
"Now sit for me while I get dressed," Lance instructed, giving a light pat to the crown of Shiro's head.  
  
Shiro leaned into the touch, lulling into Lance's words.  
  
Shiro watched as Lance drifted from one end of the closet to another, choosing his attire for the evening. He couldn't be anymore enamored with Lance as the man allowed his robe to slide from his back, leaving him so exposed to the open air, pert ass hugged so gently by the silk material of his underwear.  
  
He chose a suit. Shiro would have expected nothing less. It was a soft blue in coloration. Just a bright enough hue to make Lance's eyes sparkle like fresh cut diamonds.  
  
Shiro shifted, sitting back on his thick legs, feeling his plug draw up into him with the motion. He stifled a little groan. He just wanted this all the time. He wanted to be Lance's pet every fucking second of the day. He would never need anything more.

Lance adjusted himself, turning several times in the full length mirrors, tilting his chin this way and that. He looked stunning from every angle. Shiro felt like he'd been graced with such a thing to get to see Lance in this environment. He was his pet. His head drifted away from the office, from his responsibility, everything just fell to the wayside. He didn't know his name. It didn't matter. He didn't need to remember. He was a dog. A filthy animal. With only a handful of goals. To please Lance. To obey Lance. To be Lance's little plaything.  
  
In a rush of air Lance came to Shiro, looking down on him with a dastardly grin. The slim brunet leaned forward, clipping a small metallic leash to Shiro's collar.  
  
"Come now Pet, we have guests to greet," Lance announced.  
  
Shiro kept pace with Lance, shuffling by his side on all fours. He sat straight and proud as Lance stood by the door, the sound of engines and laughter signaling that his honored guests had made their appearances.  
  
With the doors yawned wide Shiro observed the lavish people as they filtered in. Shiro recognized the tall woman with the long waterfalls of white hair. She was dressed in an evening gown that sparkled like the heavens when she moved. It was made of deep navy, laced with silvers, a moonlit night across her shoulders. Her heels clicked the floor like hooves as she made her entrance.  
  
"Lance! Sweetie!" She boomed as she immediately came to Lance, kissing either side of his cheeks.  
  
"Allura." Lance greeted with a devilish smile.  
  
"Ah, you have the Pet with you tonight. Hello handsome," She chimed scratching beneath Shiro's chin.  
  
"Indeed. He's been extravagantly disobedient tonight," Lance hissed.  
  
Shiro dropped his gaze.  
  
Allura giggled.  
  
"Naughty thing hmm?" She scolded farcly giving Shiro a stern expression.

Allura was accompanied by a smaller young man, dressed in a black suit. He was silent, of course, not allowed to speak out of turn. Though the guests were all currently dressed in evening attire...Shiro could pick apart who was Pet and Master. The long haired boy was new. And Allura paraded him like such, hand on his collar, fingers playing in his hair gently.  
  
Lance cocked a smile.  
  
"A new Pet?" Lance questioned as his hand rested between Shiro's pointed ears.  
  
Shiro snorted and nosed into his master's hand.  
  
Allura grinned wide.  
  
"Why yes. He's green. But he's learning quickly. I was thinking your's could teach him a thing or two...but with you saying he's been misbehaving now that's not a lesson I want taught," Allura teased.  
  
"You know where the changing room is," Lance nodded.  
  
Allura smiled and coaxed the bright eyed boy to follow her.  
  
Shiro rolled his eyes. The kid was just another sap willing to follow Allura to the ends of the Earth. A fatal mistake of course. Allura switched pets faster than any master. She enjoyed breaking hearts. Shiro sighed. Maybe he was no better, he'd fallen for Lance so hard there would be no scraping his sorry carcass off the ground.

Shiro vaguely remembered names. The older man was Coran. Wealthy, never had come to these events with a pet. But Lance was very close to him. Shiro could see it in the way Lance smiled and hugged him. He was a mentor to Lance and he carried an aura that deserved respect and nothing less.  
  
The large man was H. Nothing more than that. Just a letter for a name and that was all. He was one piece of a three part puzzle that always came as a package. H., Lotor and the lengthy, dark haired boy that was only ever addressed as "Kitten".  
  
Pets didn't get real names. They weren't deserving of that.

Shiro took his seat on the cushion next to Lance's place at the head of the intimate table. It was smaller than the one placed in the grand dining room that hosted larger parties. This was a small gathering. Something Shiro was ever thankful for.  
  
He wanted Lance's attention. All of Lance's attention. At least here there was less competition.  
  
Allura's pet lounged at her feet, his hood decorated in floppy ears that dangled down over his brow. He only had on a leash, a collar and his hood. He was even allowed his hands. Shiro scoffed.  
  
Novice.  
  
But he supposed he'd started that way too. So long ago when he had realized he needed this lifestyle to exist.  
  
The dark haired boy was settled in Lotor's lap, cat ears perched atop his head, long soft tail attached to the silver plug Shiro could just barely see peering from between his round cheeks. Lotor had a smooth, soft voice, one that he was using to explain a story to Lance in-between slow bites of his food.  
  
The boy shifted and purred into his neck and Shiro was just a bit jealous he wasn't so precariously perched in his master's lap…

Lotor leaned forward, eyes following the line of Lance's arm, which was absent mindedly stroking through Shiro's hair.  
  
"So, when are you going to allow me to borrow that pretty pet of yours’? Don't you think it would be fun to watch him fuck my sweet little Kitten here?" Lotor sneered gently drawing circles over the boys’ back.  
  
Lance swallowed his mouthful of food.  
  
There had been a time where he'd been exhilarated by the idea of watching his pet fucking someone else. In fact he was sure that's where Lotor's suggestion was based. Lance used to loan out his pets without question, driven on the need to see them absolutely wrecked. But now...now the idea of his beautiful Takashi vigorously humping someone else? That brought bile up from the pit of his stomach.  
  
His hand stopped on Shiro's head.  
  
"Now, now Lotor...I am afraid I'm selfish and I'm not so keen on sharing him like that," Lance said pointedly.  
  
Lotor pouted.  
  
"Oh but look how pretty he is, I'd love to see Kitten stretched around that massive cock..." Lotor hummed thoughtfully looking to the boy in his lap.  
  
Lance frowned.  
  
He didn't want his Takashi's cock near anybody else....but him. He couldn't stomach the idea of his sweetheart inside of someone else. The thought of his Takashi in the throws of orgasm, his brows pressed together in that beautiful arch Lance loved so much, cumming within another person, it made Lance's skin prickle with uncomfortable heat.

"I'm afraid not," Lance tried gently.  
  
Lotor laughed.  
  
"Oh Lance don't tell me you've gone soft now have you? Pets are meant to be enjoyed. Keeping that lovely thing all to yourself, isn't that just a tragedy?" Lotor purred.  
  
Lance gave Lotor a little playful glare.  
  
"Maybe I have gone soft. But again, my pet won't be fucking anyone else but me," Lance said keeping the mood light.  
  
"Sweetheart don't pry," H. Said rolling his eyes at Lotor.  
  
"If you'd like a pet to fuck yours’ I readily volunteer mine," Allura grinned wide.  
  
Shiro rested his head on Lance's lap as the group of people consumed meals too lavish for most Kings and Queens. Lance allowed Shiro to taste small portions, fed from his fork, smiling down at his prized Pet. Shiro was a rarity. A big brute of a thing who wanted nothing more than to be submissive? It was like finding a needle in a haystack. And Lance was clutching to his needle for dear life.  
  
A soft, wanton moan drifted from the couch just next to the dining table. It echoed through Shiro's senses. It was light and long and needy  
  
Allura's pet without a name was frantically fucking the dark haired boy down into the cushions, snarling and growling and feverish with lust.  
  
Their sounds were riling all the wrong things in Shiro. He rocked from one leg to the other, pressing his plug into himself, eyes fluttering as he felt the toy shift. He wanted to be fucked like that. He needed it so badly. The toy wasn't quite enough anymore. He wanted more. He was so greedy.

The Kitten's voice rose high and loud, cutting through the conversation and sending wild sparks down through Shiro's gut.  
  
It had been hours. Hours he'd sat and watched and listened to their conversation but not really absorbing it. He couldn't focus on anything else but the way Lance's jaw moved when he spoke, the expression on his face, the tilt of his smile.  
  
He just wanted to hang off Lance's every word. He was so stunning. He was everything Shiro ever wanted. And yet he hardly knew a thing about him. Lance was in his life only as his Master. He didn't know his favorite color, his favorite food. He knew nothing of how Lance operated on a daily basis. They were so close and yet...not at all  
  
This realization had Shiro's stomach churning.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut. None of that mattered. He needed to just sink into the weightlessness. No thinking.

Shiro nosed lightly into Lance's thigh. Adoring the fingers on his head, the way Lance so graciously gave him attention as he entertained his guests.  
  
The symphony of moans curled down into his bones. He wanted that so badly. He was so aware of his aching arousal, stirred to life once more, fed on the sites, the sounds, the scents of sex and good food.  
  
Lance swallowed a mouthful of wine.  
  
Shiro whimpered into the perfect material of Lance's suit and this captured his master's attention.  
  
Lance's eyes were suddenly solely focused on Shiro.  
  
"What was that hmmm Pet?" Lance whispered lowly.  
  
Shiro grit is teeth.  
  
"Such a noisy thing...you'd best keep that pretty mouth shut or all you will get is punishment tonight," Lance snarled darkly.  
  
Shiro gnashed his teeth together firmly.

Shiro's cock stood heavy before him, eyes fluttering, nudging Lance's leg, searching for his master's affection softly.  
  
His erection pulsed as Lance's fingers found his neck, playing in the buzzed hairs there. Shiro couldn't help he moan forming on his tongue. It slipped out without his permission.  
  
Lance's eyes glared holes in his head.  
  
He grabbed the muzzle of Shiro's hood and made him look upward sternly.  
  
"I thought I told you to keep that pretty mouth shut," Lance snarled.  
  
"I'm sorry Master," Shiro stammered.  
  
"Do I need to give you something to busy that whore mouth with?" Lance soothed, gently swatting his palm to Shiro's cheek.  
  
"If that's what you want, yes Master. Please Master." Shiro whispered.  
  
Lance's slender fingers moved to his fly, drawing his zipper down, the sound of it causing Shiro's pulse to thrum just that much quicker. With a shift of lovely hips Lance rolled his slacks downward, taking those pretty blue panties with them.  
  
Shiro felt all the breath leave him in one shallow swoop. His stomach somersaulted at the sight. Lance was gorgeous, his dick throbbing and full. Shiro was now suddenly so aware that Lance was just as needy as he was. That brought a warm hum to his chest.

Lance spread his legs open beneath the table and dragged Shiro in.  
  
"Be a good Pet," Lance growled lowly, the sound deep and gnarled.  
  
Shiro pushed forward, the wet ring of his lips descending on Lance’s need, tongue flicking along the underside skillfully. Shiro could see Lance's stomach jerk with a sharp inhale of breath.  
  
"My little slut," Lance purred, digging nails into Shiro's scalp.  
  
Shiro hummed around Lance’s cock, eyes barely open in slow little slits, tasting precum on his tongue, relishing in how sharp Lance was. Heady and beautiful and so very good  
  
Shiro worked diligently, sloppy, his own saliva running down his chin, uncaring of how disgusting he was. All he could be bothered to focus on was the way Lance's hips twitched upward, moving toward his warm mouth, wanting him, needing more of him. Shiro gagged as Lance forced back into his throat and Lance seemed to inflate with the sound.  
  
Shiro backed off of Lance’s hardness, tongue swirling around his head, up through his slit. He took Lance back into his hot maw fast and eager, choking around him again. Lance hissed, fingers white on his wine glass. He dragged Shiro forward harder.  
  
"F-fuck..." The slim man groaned.  
  
The sound was honey, dripping slow and easy over Shiro's entire body. He was leaking sticky fluid onto his own thigh, cock drooling as he was consumed in Lance's pleasure.

Lance's thighs tensed around Shiro, teeth gritted, hand too tight in his pet's hair. The sound of his voice growing lower and more beautifully needy had Shiro's heart melting behind his ribs.  
  
The symphony of Lance's pleasure rolling through him had him floating. He was the cause of those sounds. Those fantastic, unbridled sounds. So real and unhindered.

Shiro wished with all his heart he could see Lance's face contort in the throes of ecstasy.. He wished he could view just how hard he was biting his lip. He wanted to see him come undone. But he settled for just feeling Lance tense, muscles tight and strained, fingers giving away just how much he needed the other man. He could feel Lance’s erection grow fatter on his tongue, swelling as orgasm threatened to take him.  
  
With a soft, whisper of a moan Lance's thighs snapped around Shiro's cheeks, pressing, hips lifting, convulsing with the end of of the tension Shiro had conjured. The flood of Lance’s finish was overwhelming on Shiro’s taste buds. His hot cum filled his mouth, cumshot after cumshot as he swallowed it down readily. Shiro continued to bob his head, determined to suck every last drop from his Master’s need.  
  
Lance cursed, the sound soft and utterly satisfied. He dragged Shiro off his cock when the sensation became far too much.  
  
"G-good pet," Lance praised.  
  
For the first time his voice shook and Shiro was ablaze with warmth.

Shiro resisted the urge to kiss the soft plain of Lance's inner thigh. His warm breath puffed against the tanned flesh, relishing in the thick scent of Lance's sex. He inhaled it deep, the druglike effect going straight to his head and curling his toes.  
  
Lance's hand was lazy as it drew circles through Shiro's locks. The big man preened with pride. He'd pleased his Master. That was all he needed in that moment. To know he'd been the cause of Lance's satisfaction. He knew Lance well. He always knew just the way to please him. It was all second nature.

*****

The house was so silent with the lack of guests. After hours of enjoying the fine food and the company of lavish scenes that would never be spoken of beyond these walls, Shiro was finally left to bask in Lance's presence alone. The big man laid across the floor next to Lance's massive bed. Spread like a fine woven carpet, eyes never leaving his Master as Lance very slowly began peeling out of his clothing.  
  
"The nerve. To think he just assumed you were free to carry out all his little fantasies," Lance muttered to himself.  
  
"You are my pet. Aren't you sweetheart?" Lance snarled as he wrestled out of his undershirt.  
  
"Yes Master. Only yours," Shiro responded slowly.  
  
Lance harrumphed.  
  
"Only mine," Lance repeated as he stepped out of his slacks, leaving the clothing strewn in a trail behind him.  
  
The young man sashayed to the bed, depositing himself into the comforters heavily.  
  
"C'mere Pet," Lance instructed patting the bed sternly.  
  
Shiro did not have to be told twice.

Shiro crawled onto the large, billowing bedding, still flushed behind the leather mask, still pitifully needy.  
  
"Lay down. I'm not done with you. I need something to take my frustrations out on," Lance snarled waving his slender hand in a circle.  
  
Shiro did as instructed, rolling on to his muscular back, huffing raggedly, wanting with all his heart to reach out and touch Lance.  
  
The slender male slid himself onto Shiro's hips, settling across the strong v of his abdomen.  
  
"You are all mine. My beautiful little slut," Lance hissed the dirty word.  
  
Shiro shuddered.  
  
Lance toyed with the hem of his panties, giving Shiro a pair of devious eyes. Glass marbles settled in his skull.  
  
"Mmmm. So hard for me," Lance whispered softly, thumb tracing Shiro's wet slit.

Lance splayed his fingers across Shiro's chest, tugging at the big ring at the front of his harness.  
  
"Have you been a good enough boy?" Lance groaned as he snapped the elastic teasingly.  
  
Shiro gulped.  
  
"Only if you think I have been Master," Shiro huffed languidly.  
  
Lance pondered, for several seconds.  
  
"I suppose you have been," Lance smiled toothily.  
  
Shiro was holding his breath as Lance lifted up on his knees, sliding the slim garments over long, stunning legs and kicking them off to an unknown location.  
  
Lance stradled Shiro confidently, finger sliding down to delve through soft caramel hairs, gently playing with his flaccid cock, tugging and rolling until it started to fill and harden.  
  
And then he was wrapping his fingers around Shiro's great girth, sinking down on the big man, throwing his head back like a wolf about to howl at the new moon. 

Lance was already prepared and ready, slick and warm with lube, tight ring of muscle engulfing Shiro with ease.  
  
The sound that ripped from Shiro's depths was ragged and loud and raw. Lance only smiled wide as his ears were kissed by the noise.  
  
"You sound so pathetic," Lance barked, hissing into the stretch, forgetting just how big Shiro was inside of him.  
  
Lance was warm silk around him, muscles tightening meanly, Shiro only then so very aware his Master hadn't bothered with a condom. It felt so wrong and good...so good.

Lance arched his back gracefully, hilting his lovely pet, chewing his lip firmly, eyes screwing closed. He was so full.  
  
"Mmm I had nearly forgotten what your fat cock felt like," Lance moaned, hips rolling forward like a ship at sea.  
  
"That's a shame isn't it?" Lance continued.  
  
"Were you too busy for your Master?" Lance said giving Shiro a little snarl.  
  
Shiro shook his head.  
  
"No Master," Shiro struggled to respond.  
  
He could hardly form coherent thought, not with Lance grinding down on him, moving his slender hips in slow circles.  
  
"Don't tell me you don't want this anymore. Is that it Takashi?" Lance huffed.  
  
Shiro shook his head even more furiously.  
  
He would have given everything to have his hands free to grab Lance's hips and fuck up into him rough and stern...prove to him how much he wanted this. How much he NEEDED this. He was so upset he'd let work overcome him. He'd been away from this for too long.  
  
"No Master. I want this. I want this, s-so much," Shiro groaned, mouth open in a weak oval.  
  
Lance offered him an amused expression, stretching his arms behind his head, lengthening his lean form out, the outline of his ribs pressing against his skin. He had several scars along his abdomen, not nearly as jagged as Shiro’s but they were still there, faded with age and lacking a story.  
  
Shiro wanted to kiss them, over and over and over again. He knew nothing of Lance's journey. Nothing of his hardships. Nothing of how he'd made his fortune other than he owned several companies. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Lance wandered his fingers downward, stroking his cock quick and determined. His hips rocked faster, his pace sloppy. Shiro rolled his hips upward, unable to keep still under Lance's influences.  
  
"Fuck you feel so good Pet," Lance groaned, fucking faster, harder, lost as he chased his orgasm down.  
  
Shiro struggled beneath him, making strangled sounds that broke off and caught between his teeth.  
  
He wanted to moan out Lance's name. He loved calling him Master. He was his Master. But once. Just once he would have adored to let Lance's real name slide off his lips.  
  
"Cum inside me," Lance purred, grinning down at his lovely pet.  
  
Shiro couldn't think. He couldn't rationalize why he shouldn't. His Master had given him an order. He needed to obey.  
  
"Yes Master."  
  
Lance smiled when Shiro stiffened, back coming off the bed, teased for too long, fighting it for longer than he could stand, so hard, aching, almost painful, and the big man was coming.  
  
Lance sunk into the feeling of Shiro twitching within him, cock pulsating, the wet rush of his hot finish filling him pleasantly.

“_ Fuck Lance…” _

For a split moment Shiro forgot all of the rules and breathlessly whispered Lance’s name as he came. He realized the mistake the moment it had fallen off his lips. But Lance hadn’t seemed to hear. 

Lance yelled when he met his own peak, satisfied, convulsing around his partners cock, hips still rolling forward at an unsteady pace. His finish speckled the hills and valleys of Shiro’s muscular abdomen, collecting in the pit of his naval.  
  
"Mmm fuck. Fuck..." Lance hissed lowly.  
  
They stayed that way for what felt like eons. Shiro didn't want Lance to disconnect. Everything was warm, his head finally unclouding. Lance lifted from him, Shiro's finish running down his inner thighs.  
  
What a sight that was.  
  
Lance got up and disappeared, only for a moment to clean himself.  
  
And then Lance's hands were helping him out of his hood, out of his collar, his emotions overflowing with too much pleasure, too much of a rush. Lance whispered praise and soft words, brushing Shiro's hair back as he undid his mitts.  
  
"How are you feeling pet?" Lance asked as he offered the bigger man a bottle of cool water.  
  
Shiro sat forward, feeling deflated, like an old inner tube. He drank half the bottle. He wasn't aware how thirsty he'd been....  
  
"Good," Shiro managed to answer feebly.  
  
Lance's hands caressed through his hair again, steady, grounding him, eyes soft and voice softer.  
  
"You did so good," Lance smiled.  
  
Shiro wished the other man would come closer. He would have given anything to draw him in close, to kiss his cheek.

"I did miss you Takashi. Don't disappear on me so long next time," Lance said as he twirled Shiro's bangs in his fingers.  
  
Shiro nodded, looking at Lance through half lidded eyes.  
  
"I promise I won't. Big case. You know how that goes," Shiro said with a half grin.  
  
Lance sighed.  
  
"I know, but I don't like waiting," Lance pouted.  
  
Shiro smiled very slowly.  
  
He wanted to tug Lance into his chest and just hold him there. But that wasn't the way this worked. Shiro was strictly a Pet. Lance was his Master. There was no relationship here. There was an agreement. And that was all. After the night was done, Shiro would shower and then he'd be gone. He'd crawl into his bed as the sun was rising, tired, feeling like a glass half empty.  
  
"May I shower? Then I'll be on my way," Shiro asked, trying to force a smile.  
  
But it was hard. He didn't like this part. Lance's aftercare was wonderful. But he was always left alone in the end. And that made his heart sink.  
  
This was just a temporary thing. Lance would move onto the next man who wanted to be his submissive. Shiro was just one of many. That was all.

Lance nodded and laid himself out on the bed.  
  
Shiro wished he would join him. He would have loved to gently wash Lance's hair, to kiss his neck, slick and wet with water. Fantasies, that would never have home here in the reality of it all.  
  
Lance didn't believe in love.  
  
Shiro saw that in the young man's eyes. Something there had broken a long time ago. Which was why Lance kept everyone at arm's length. Including Shiro. He'd fallen for an unobtainable thing. That was just the way the cards had laid.  
  
Shiro stood in the grand shower silently, letting the water rush down his back.  
  
But they could be so much more. They could be so great....  
  
Stupid dreams.  
  
That's all they were.  
  
Shiro wrapped himself in a towel and exited the bathroom, steam billowing around his feet. He was alerted to the buzz of his cellphone against the marble top of Lance's bedside table. He looked to the caller ID.   
  
Shiro answered it quickly. It was nearly three in the morning, why in the world was Romelle calling?  
  
"Romelle is everything ok?" Shiro asked quickly, pacing the room as he spoke.  
  
"Oh, yeah just one tiny quick question?"  
  
She sounded tired. Exhausted even. He felt even more guilty.  
  
This time he answered her questions, dutifully, allowing her to chatter away as he went to fetch his clothing.  
  
"Get some sleep, you really need it ok?" Shiro sighed and the young woman agreed over and over again she would.  
  
Shiro clicked the end call button. 

That girl was going to work herself to death.

Lance's eyes were glued to Shiro's form as the big man shrugged his shirt over his shoulders.  
  
"Who was that?" Lance asked flatly.  
  
Shiro looked to the other man in surprise. Lance's voice sounded...low...dare he say....jealous?  
  
"My assistant," Shiro chuckled.  
  
"Your assistant calls you at three in the morning?" Lance scoffed.  
  
"She does when we have a trial at the end of the week," Shiro said cocking his head.  
  
"She's just an assistant? You sounded pretty friendly," Lance asked folding his arms.  
  
Shiro cocked a brow.  
  
Lance was jealous.  
  
This sent Shiro's heart to racing.

"Just an assistant," Shiro assured.  
  
"I'm just not very keen on my Pet sticking his cock in other people. So...keep that big thing in your pants..." Lance growled.  
  
If only Lance knew Shiro hadn't so much as even looked in the general direction of anybody else since they had started this contract  
  
"I only have one Master," Shiro said with a slim smile.  
  
Lance looked him over diligently.

Lance huffed but seemed to take Shiro's word.  
  
"Takashi..." Lance said suddenly, just as Shiro made to begin buttoning up his shirt.  
  
Shiro looked up in curiosity.  
  
"It's late. You should just stay," Lance said patting the bedding next to him.  
  
Shiro felt his heart flip flop, nearly right out of his chest.  
  
No. Lance was just being nice. He didn't really want Shiro to stay. Shiro covered his unease with a short, hollow laugh.  
  
"I've left later than this, I'll be ok," Shiro tried to brush it off.  
  
Lance rolled his eyes.  
  
"What do you have to crawl back into bed with what was her name... Romelle?" Lance grouched. 

Shiro gave him a frown.  
  
"I already told you she's my assistant," Shiro sighed.  
  
"Then stay. I want you to," Lance argued.  
  
Shiro paused, fingers still on the buttons of his dress shirt.  
  
"I thought that was against the rules, Master," Shiro said softly.  
  
Lance shrugged his shoulders up.  
  
"I just need my pet for a bit longer. That's all," Lance replied shortly.

Shiro tried not to let the excitement show on his face. But he was all too eager to drop his shirt back on the floor. Lance didn't seem to be worried about finding his clothing and so Shiro didn't either, carefully crawling into the sea of comforters.  
  
He laid down stiffly, eyes adjusting in the dark as Lance clicked off the lights by remote control.  
The shuffle of skin against sheets was soft in the silence.  
  
And then Lance's body shifted, tucking right up into the thick of Shiro's chest, as if searching for warmth. Shiro froze. Unsure as to where to place his hands. But Lance did not hesitate.  
  
The younger man leaned forward, pecking a chaste kiss to Shiro's lips. Then another one. And another, each one gaining in confidence until Shiro's biceps were wrapped tight around Lance's shoulders holding him close and protective. Mouths moved in time with one another, hard, wanting, only breaking apart for short breaths.  
  
Shiro didn't want it to end. He kissed Lance time and time again. He kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his nose, his forehead. He kissed all the places he'd wanted to but had not been invited to do so.  
  
Lance giggled softly when Shiro nibbled his ear. He was ticklish there? That was viciously endearing.  
  
Shiro's palm settled on Lance's lower back, holding him flush to his warmth.  
  
Lance kissed the thrum of Shiro's pulse.  
  
The rule of no intimacy beyond Pet and Master play seemed to be off the table too. Shiro wasn't sure what caused Lance's sudden want to bend all the laws they'd put in place...but he couldn't find it in himself to stop it. For all he knew Lance would be kicking him out the next morning. Regretting it all...but for now Shiro could pretend...for a moment that they were real.  
  
They were happy.

"Goodnight Takashi," Lance whispered nuzzling into Shiro's throat.  
  
"Goodnight Lance," Shiro tripped and used Lance's name.

He immediately realized his wrongdoing.  
  
It felt strange on his lips. Sweet and fantastic.  
  
But to his surprise...Lance hummed at the sound.  
  
"My name sounds good when you say it. By the way, I heard you moan it when you came," Lance snickered.  
  
Shiro grit his teeth.  
  
"Apologies Master," Shiro grimaced.  
  
Lance coughed.  
  
"Lance. Call me Lance right now," The younger man said.  
  
Shiro nodded and pressed his nose into Lance's hair.  
  
"Of course, Lance," Shiro whispered.  
  
Shiro closed his eyes. There was so much more he wanted to say.  
  
_ I love you Lance. _  
  
It was right there on the tip of his tongue.  
  
Slowly, he reminded himself. Slowly. 

*****  
  
The next morning Shiro dreaded opening his eyes. He just knew when he turned over, Lance would be gone.

But he wasn't. He was right there, curled up to Shiro's form, snoring softly, hair wild with sleep.  
  
Shiro brushed a lock of hair out of the sleeping man's face.  
  
"I love you Lance," He whispered.


End file.
